Saturday, September 3, 2016

Choices

Once upon a time…

8.25 am You wake up. The
clock has not gone off this morning. “Damn” is your very first thought. You
jump from bed and hit the shower. The water is too hot and you stub your toe
getting out. In your mind, the day’s activities are being played out. You have
three meetings, a training session and an induction to do in the afternoon. You
can’t find your wallet. You eventually find it where you left it. You take your
usual walk to the station. You hurry your walk until you nearly find yourself
jogging. You see your train sitting on the platform and you begin the sprint.
You push by someone on the steps and lose your footing and come crashing down
on the platform. Your bag slides across the ground hurling your paperwork
everywhere and the wind picks up right then and carry them with mean intent
across the railway lines as your train pulls out. You shout the F word as the
lady you pushed out of the way a moment ago walks past you smiling slightly.

You hail a cab and
bemoan the 50 bucks this will cost you. The taxi driver irritates you because
he seems so happy. You suspect he may be on something. You arrive at work. The receptionist
says good morning and ask you how you are. “Don’t ask” is your gruff reply. In
the office your mood pervades the atmosphere. You walk in to the meeting ten
minutes late. Someone only has to look at you for you to say – “Don’t even go
there” and the meeting carries on. But you can’t really hear what is going on. You
are now hot and sweaty and the water from the jug seems tepid.

After a tough day you
sit on the train on the way home totally annoyed at the guy sitting behind you
whose music is too loud even though he wears headphones. You look at the
newspaper and there is violence everywhere. Bombings and threats. Anger and
hate. You find something in the story to hate as well. You look around and everyone
looks angry.

You get home
exhausted. You munch down the tasteless pizza you picked up and decide to hit
the sack. You fall into bed and begin a deep but troubled sleep. You don’t realise
that in your haste you have forgottento set the clock.

8.25 am You are awake. The clock has not gone off this morning. “What
a great sleep” is your very first thought. You sit on the edge of your bed,
close your eyes again and take some deep breaths. Outside you can hear a bird
sing. You look out the window. The blue sky is splattered with bright fluffy
wool like clouds and you smile. In the shower you feel the water run down your
body and gently awaken your skin. You dress, grab your wallet and take your
usual walk to the station. There is a cool breeze and it caresses your face as
you walk. The trees make noise as you pass them by, the wind dancing between
their branches. On the platform the train sits patiently. As you arrive at the
platform stairway the train departs. You know that there is a train every
fifteen minutes and you welcome the opportunity to pick up your book. You sit
on a bench smiling at the lady next to so and she returns the smile. You open
your book and read:

“Things are as they are. Looking out into it
the universe at night, we make no comparisons between right and wrong stars,
nor between well and badly arranged constellations. To have faith is to trust
yourself to the water. When you swim you don't grab hold of the water, because
if you do you will sink and drown. Instead you relax, and float.”

At work the receptionist greets you warmly and you greet
your colleagues likewise in your office. You walk into your meeting late, beam
at your audience and tell them that you slept in a few minutes and have now the
advantage of feeling twenty minutes fresher than them. A good natured and
productive meeting ensues.

After a rewarding day you sit on the train on the way home. You
observe the different people around you, most looking down at an iPhone, some
listening to music and some reading papers. You turn to the window and watch a
sunset, newer and more spectacular than ever!

You get home feeling still. You eat a delicious pizza you
picked up on the way and know that it was made with love as you take your time
to enjoy the mingling tastes. You decide to hit the sack early. You set the
clock and slide into bed and begin a deep but peaceful sleep. And dream.

“Once upon a
time, Chuang Chou dreamed that he was a butterfly, a butterfly flitting about
happily enjoying himself. He didn’t know that he was Chou. Suddenly he awoke
and was palpably Chou. He didn’t know whether he were Chou who had dreamed of
being a butterfly, or a butterfly who was dreaming that he was Chou.”

Got a story to share: Contact DJ

This is my personal blog on matters pertaining to Volunteer Management,Volunteerism and sometimes life in general. It consists of my own opinions and does not represent the opinions of any other person, business or organization.

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Irish born, DJ Cronin commenced volunteering for organisations at the age of 15 and has been active in the volunteering sector for most of his life. DJ believes that volunteerism is a powerful movement for betterment and change in our society, and he is a passionate advocate for the sector of volunteer management as well as effective volunteer engagement and development.